Nettles update: eighteen months.

“Do.” “Doy.” “Doos.” “Douche.”

Your vocabulary is brought to you by the letter D. It’s also nearly correct – ‘poo’, ‘bird’, ‘shoes’, and really on target with that last one, since you meant ‘wash’ and actually kinda said it in French. Or you’re cussing the shower, which wouldn’t surprise me either.

Also nice try with the flat-on-the-floor tantrums. You make a good effort. But I’ve been down this road. And you’re way too smart to the point I know you know when it’s not working and try a different route. And you do. Good life plan.

Since Yom Kippur is tonight, I want to apologize for something. Well, for everything you’ll be in therapy for already, but also for what I’ve given you without realizing it until this month:

Resting bitch face.

See Nettles, for the last couple months you were doing this hilarious face. You’d look up at me, cross your eyebrows, pinch your mouth, and scour. I’d laugh, you’d laugh, I’d copy your exaggerated face, and ask you what you’re so angry about.

Then one day while we played this game in the mirror, it hit me: you’re actually just copying my  resting face. My infamous resting face, where everyone thinks I’m angry when I’m just pondering what kind of puppy I want.

And then I laughed, and you laughed, and now I’m forever self-conscious of what face I’m making around you.

On that note, it’s ok that you look like me – for once, I have a kid who does – but I hope it means something that you’re way more excited about being around other kids. You’ve been having fun at your new gan with 394728946 kids around, mostly older ones.

One piece of life advice: when you think you’re being friendly to them, you’re actually hitting them. We are practicing the ‘make nice’ bit actively, but in the meantime, maybe try not to actively laugh while you slap kids. It could give your potential friends the impression that you’re, well, doing this on purpose.

Same goes for all the hair-pulling.

Here’s to a good year Nettles.

Nettles update: sixteen months


And she’s everywhere.

And she’s climbing onto the kitchen table to make it rain napkins and wipes.

And she’s climbing backwards down the stairs if she can outpace me.

Which – she can.

And she’s force-feeding baby dolls like the CIA is amateur hour.


But she’s got curly hair. And she’s delicious.

(But… don’t be fooled: in her mind, she’s ripping apart an actual butterfly.)

Nettles update: fourteen months

Sugar and spice and everything nice, that’s what little girls are made of… 

…in your weird outdated genderized dreams.

This little girl is made of naughty grins, cunning eyes, plans to hatch, to get a rise.

A hand over here, a hand over there, another fistful of big sister’s hair.

You want to be big, you’ve got a loud roar, at the very least you could try to help out more.

Play on, Nettles.

Nettles update: thirteen months

13 months. 13 things I hope you will keep doing.

  1. Playing in the dirt
  2. Saying ‘hello’ when I hand you a ‘telephone’
  3. Hide and seek with your shirt 
  4. Climbing over your siblings
  5. Claiming what’s rightfully yours 
  6. Cuddling us
  7. Rumbling on the bed with the blankets and pillows
  9. Taking what you want 
  10. Giggling, snorting, cackling
  11. Enjoying the breeze on your face 
  12. Contemplating everything with the seeming wisdom of a 105-year-old woman 
  13. Watching the world, wide-eyed 

Nettles update: twelve months


We did it! We made it to one! You’re still a functioning human baby and I’m still a functioning mother of three!

You’ve experienced much beyond your year. A busy home life! Job interviews! Two trips abroad! Two snows – make that three snows – make that a ton of snow between two countries! Exhausted mother bumping you into things! Siblings stepping on your head!

You destroy things, but you also build.

When you enjoy food, you really enjoy food.

You’re feeling out nature (without eating it all the time).

You’re talking back to us, to the dogs, to the walls, to the pacifiers, to the occasional Sesame Street.

You’re one of the gang.

I remember seeing you the first time like it was an hour ago. My first thought was, ‘it’s a girl?!’ and my second thought was ‘hahahaha your awkward first photo is going to haunt you.’

And then, just like that, like a puzzle piece, like a booster seat strap, you snapped right in… to my arms, to our daily routine, to our car (thank you Diono) and to our family life.

Keep wide-eyed, keep growing, keep laughing with us Nettles.

Nettles update: eleven months

It’s very possible you are the cutest thing ever to have existed.

There’s nothing about your face that I don’t want to eat.

There’s nothing about your laugh that I don’t want to make you keep laughing.

In the last month, you’ve really gotten involved with the household chores. Or, as a parent would call them, ways you go around and mess up the house so I have more to do. But I appreciate the sentiment.

You are incredibly curious. You’ve flown internationally twice now. You’ve been on countless day trips. You take it all in. Every little thing. It’s obvious in the way you look at the world.

You’re moving along so fast… You watch what’s going on with your brother and sister and you want to join. You see a button, you have to smash it. You see a bathtub, you have to hang out next to it until everyone has left the bathroom. You see the stairs, climb them, and I have to breathe really quietly and step really lightly to catch you from falling down them from laughing too hard.

You stood up by yourself for a couple seconds, just to try it out. You get your kicks from just about anything. For example, punching me in the eye. Repeatedly.

On that note, you are a relentless cosleeper.

It’s clear you take more risks than your siblings ever did. You refuse to miss out on the fun, crawling right up to the pile of Lego and freaking out your brother (“She’s going to eat it!”) or attempting to brush your sister’s hair with your nails (“She hurt me!”)

Hey, I warned them you’d want to get involved sooner or later.

And they take you on, too.

But my favorite thing from the last month was that you’ve sharpened your first word. It started out ever so softly, so much so I didn’t realize it. But now I do.

Eeehmma, eeeehmma…